Be Back Before Dawn
by Haze Of Bitter Tears
Summary: This is basically just a story about a girl who became slayer after Buffy died in season five I'm convinced that there would be one who goes to LA with Angel. If you like it then review, if not then just don't bother. I'm doing this mostly for a friend.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of this. It's all Joss Whedon who I am sometimes jealous of.

**Reviews**: Good ones, i'd like. If they're bad then.. I dont' want to see them.

**Other info**: I thought of this story before I had seen the episodes where Buffy got called at her school. I didn't start watching BtVS until the later seasons. Which was mid-season four ish.

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Graduation. It wasn't far away. A few weeks from now. The seventeen year old girl with blonde hair and black tips watched the small birds hop along the tree branches. She could hear the chirping through the open window that she just happened to be sitting by.

Desiree Cameron DeLuca turned her head in a way that would get her hair over her shoulder and out of the way, allowing her to get a clear view of her best friend in the seat next to her. Charlotte Alexander sat boredly in the chair, toying with her black plastic rimmed glasses.

"I don't know why you don't just wear your contacts," Desiree said in Charlotte's direction.

"They frustrate me," the girl who insisted on being called 'Charlie' responded without looking at her. How many times did she have to tell Desiree that? Desiree's response was always 'then why do you even have them?'. Charlie shook her head at the mere thought of it.

Desiree's attention was now directed to the front of the room, before she could ask her friend the question that she always asked. Just because it was funny. The reason that she had turned was due to the fact that she heard her last name added with 'miss'. "I'm afraid that I don't --" she didn't even bother finishing the sentence? With a small smirk, she slung her shoulder back over her neck and proceded to wait for Charlie outside of the classroom.

"Why does history even have to be taught?" Charlie grumbled, slightly irritated at the looks from the passers as they walked down the halls. The two girls got these looks regularly. It was a daily thing. Whispers and snickering. Desiree was severley paranoid at times. Trust was not something either one of the girls gave out often. It had to be earned. Desiree would trust her life with Charlie and her, the same. "No one cares about it."

"I have to go to my locker." And with that, Charlie turned the opposite way, shoving her way through students to get to her locker.

"I'll be by the car then." Desiree did not drive to and from school. It was a waste of gas. She slipped her purple tinted sunglasses over her eyes and headed out.

By the time Charlie had gotten to the car, another woman was standing in front of Desiree, introducing herself as Marti Colins. What the hell kind of name was that?

"I would prefer to inot/i be iwatched/i, thank you," Desiree said coldly. That was the way she got while annoyed. It could definitely get worse.

Marti now noticed the girl standing behind Desiree. "Perhaps we could speak in private," she said with her british accent that Desiree had found quite annoying so far.

"Anything you say to me, you can say in front of her."

After studying Charlie for a moment before letting out a sigh she decided that the two could not be seperated by the look of it and Marti didn't want to try. "You are a slayer," she said quietly as if someone was listening.

"Excuse me?" Desiree asked. This had to be a joke.

"A sly--"

"I know damn well what they are." She learned these things when her parents weren't fighting criminals they were into the supernatural. Her mother was, or used to be, a witch. Why she was now a lawyer like her father, she did not know. They had met in an occult store. Well, while her mother was leaving one. Desiree suddenly shook her head and looked straight into Marti's eyes.

A short laugh came from behind her. "People like us don't get--" Charlie stopped herself. She was not just any 'people'. She was a demon. What type? Desiree would not ask about it, she didn't want to know.

"I will not be told what to do," Desiree growled out. "Now move if you don't want to break anything." She and Charlie didn't look back at anything Marti said. They peeled out of the parking lot.

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"You're special," Charlie said, trying to make Desiree feel better and not want to kill a small child. "There aren't many."

"No, i'm cursed," Desiree said as she opened the door to her home, dropping her bag next to Charlie's on the floor. The house was quiet. Like it always was. It was sometimes nice, and other times wrong.

"You aren't cursed until you're a demon."

Desiree closed the door and locked it, leading the way to the library.

"Do not argue with me, woman," Charlie continued before Desiree had a chance to say anything. She snatched a book off of the shelf, flipping the pages. "Dude, you don't know how fantastic this is."

"Fantastic?"

"It's better than saying delicious," Charlie said with a shrug.

Desiree shook her head and plopped herself down into a chair across from Charlie.

---

"How long have we been here?" Charlie complained, pulling her glasses from her face, rubbing at her eyes. This was getting tiring. Reading was not something she absolutly liked to do. Even if things as interesting as this were right in front of her face. Or perhaps it was just because she was tired.

"I don't know," Desiree said as she flipped the page of a book that she'd picked off of a pile from the desk. "If you're tired then go to sleep."

"I'm not tired." Charlie pushed the book shut, tossing it lightly on the table next to her. "I'm just bored."

"Slayers only live to see about 20."

With a roll of her eyes, Charlie slipped her glasses back over her eyes. "You don't know if that's even actually true."

"I don't want to die," Desiree said simply. Something was in her eyes now, something that wasn't there often. "Not this soon."

Fear.


End file.
